


dating a live wire

by sharlook



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9420962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharlook/pseuds/sharlook
Summary: gavin is constantly moving, constantly electrified, something within him always running running running; a glorious wildfire that just happens to express itself in the form of stupid jokes and obnoxious one-liners that jeremy for some reason just can't get enough of.(a little FAHC jerevin moment.)





	

  
jeremy dooley is dating a live wire.    
  
gavin's energy is boundless, and that's before the heist. while they're out on the streets the adrenaline courses through him, focused onto the task at hand, found in the grip of his hands on the motorbike, the mechanical clicks as he cocks his gun, the steady thump of his tacky gold sneakers on the sidewalk as jeremy runs beside him. 

the man is constantly moving, constantly electrified, something within him always running running running; a glorious wildfire that just happens to express itself in the form of stupid jokes and obnoxious one-liners that jeremy for some reason just can't get enough of.   


  
the heist was a success. not their biggest yet, but a good cut for everyone on the team. 

(jeremy wonders what to spend his newfound cash on. it's only since he joined the crew that he's been able to get used to, for lack of a better phrase, the feeling of wealth, the feeling of having disposable income, the feeling of being able to splash out on takeout and not have to worry about affording the bus the next day. when he had first met gavin, the golden boy of the fake ah crew clad in crisp shirts and sparkling rings and designer sunglasses just for the sake of having them, it was probably one of the most surreal experiences of his life, like a dream, like a tv show. he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone else so committed to an aesthetic. gavin never seemed real at first.)   
  
(he is certainly real now.) 

they're taking the motorbike through countless winding back roads, looping around the coastline and starting to head back into los santos. jeremy has one hand around gavin's waist, clutching at his metallic bomber jacket - it's bloodstained, but it doesn't matter, the man already has one exactly the same at home - and the other resting on the gun tucked into his belt. the cops are long gone, of course, they lost them miles back, but better safe than sorry, jeremy thinks. especially given the speed at which the taller man is driving. 

 

the roads are empty but gav still drives like he's in the midst of a gunfight, talking all the while as if jeremy can hear him over the roar of the wind in his ears. he presses his forehead to his boyfriend's back, feels the vibration of his chest, the rumble of the engine, wonders if this is how gavin feels all the time.   
  
10 minutes later gavin fumbles his keys outside the doorway, as always. 'it went off pretty well in the end,' he says - far too loud. jeremy smacks him on the arm, grins and whispers 'shut up!' 

he doesn't think the little old lady in the apartment above would react too well to the pair of them, exhausted, buzzing, blood spattered across them like the world's most morbid modern art exhibition -  especially since she's mostly under the impression that they're a couple running a distribution business together. which is technically not untrue, in the sense that they are indeed a couple, and they do distribute things. often drugs, mostly bullets into people's chests, but they do distribute things.    
  
gavin hushes, about as much as he is capable of in this state, which is not much.    
  


'all i'm saying is -'   
  


'shh!' jeremy rolls his eyes, grabs gavin's jangling keys and lets himself into gavin's apartment.   
  


the man in question carries on in a comically exaggerated whisper. 'all i'm saying is we should have hit the gas station round the corner first. it would have made more sense.' he sweeps through the doorway, a flash of gold and red in jeremy's peripheral, makes a beeline for the couch and flops over the back, head first, his feet sticking into the air. 

  
jeremy makes sure all three of the door's locks are shut behind him. 'how'd you mean?'

  
'could have looped back around. done the first one,’ he waves his hand dismissively, ‘or - well i mean the last one, the last one we did tonight, we could have gone there first, lost the cops, bam!’ his face erupts into a shit eating grin that jeremy has seen too many times. ‘second one!' 

  
jeremy approaches him, leans on the arm of the couch. gav grins up at him, hands now folded on his stomach drumming the rhythm to whatever song he's had stuck in his head that day.

he is red in the face and the sunglasses on his head are cracked and his hair is sticking up in every direction.

 

jeremy doesn't think he's seen anything more beautiful in his life. 

 

so he grins and says, 'move up, you prick,' cackles harder than he should at gav's faux-indignant squawks as the taller man flails his limbs around trying to turn himself the right way up, eventually resting his feet on the glass coffee table, jeremy dropping onto the cushions to rest his head on his boyfriend's chest - with only minimal complaining about the bony knees poking into his back, because this is how they work, this is what they do.    
  
gav's fingers keep tapping their rhythm onto jeremy's forearm, his jacket sleeves long since rolled up, a constant movement, a constant reminder. 'we probably wouldn't have had to go past the station, either. gone round the back roads.'

  
'yeah, well, we would have spent about as much as we got tonight on the gas alone.' jeremy grins. 'do you always have to tap like that?' he asks.

  
'sorry.' gavin's hand pauses. jeremy can see it's still tense, still electric, a live wire. 

  
'i didn't mean stop.'

  
gavin carries on drumming, continuous, erratic, a warped heartbeat. 'i don't know. s'natural, i guess. got to keep busy.' 

  
'i can feel that.' he pauses. 'probably not a bad thing, considering what we do and all.'

  
'hm?'

  
'y'know.' he makes air quotes. 'distribution.'

  
'yeah, yeah,' gav laughs and jeremy can feel the air huff through him. 'distribution.'    
  
  
  
  



End file.
